Truths
by Tigerlily
Summary: NWN2 Casavir/KC. Casavir is confronted with the KC's feelings for him. When he regrets rejecting her, he tries to convince her of his love. But is it too late? And, can he stop her seeking comfort in the arms of Bishop? Rating to be safe...


Part I

She found him alone and brooding in the night. He was sitting on a large, flat slab of stone that had once been part of the Keep wall. Now is rested in the remains of the thriving, albeit, unkempt kitchen garden.

The night was dark and cool, and she could not read his face as he stood rigidly to greet her.

"Milady," he said, bowing his head. "Is everything alright?"

She looked at him, distracted as her eyes adjusted to the dark. "Pardon?" she asked.

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face at her confused voice, but his voice remained serious. "It is late," he said simply. "Is all well within the keep?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that." She paused. She wasn't sure herself why she was wandering about at such a late hour. Her mind had been uneasy of late, though she would hardly admit why to herself, let alone anyone else.

Let alone him.

"I just wanted some air," she said evasively, not meeting his eyes. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course not Milady."

She smiled as she sank down on the cool, smooth stone. He waited politely until she was seated before situating himself a safe distance away from her.

"I wish you would call me Lyn, as everyone else does," she said. "Even Lynette would do," she offered quietly "If you were more comfortable with that."

"Bishop calls you neither of those things." he interjected darkly.

She could not help but smile at that. She'd been wondering how long she'd be able to talk with him before the ranger's name came up. She knew Casavir only tolerated Bishop's presence because his skills were necessary. And, Casavir did not trust him, he'd told her as much the night Bishop joined the party.

_I do not like the way he looks at you._

She warmed at the memory.

At first, it had been a comfort to have them both with her; she was small for a human. Although she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she did appreciate the skills and strength both men brought with them.

In another situation, she'd be flattered to have the two men constantly verbally sparring for her favor. In her current state though, she was far from cheered by it. Though the way the paladin's eyes would practically smolder whenever he reprimanded Bishop's attitude towards her was part of the reason she'd allowed herself to seek him out this night. She did not know if it was merely chivalry, or something more, but it gave her hope.

Plus, truth be told, she hadn't been able to really sleep since they'd lost Shandra, and she knew she would find comfort in his company.

She looked over at him, able now to see him plainly in the moonlight. She had never seen him out of his plate before, and she smiled at the sight. She was glad that he felt secure enough in the defenses of the Keep not to be armed to the teeth constantly. But she could see that his body was rigid and tense underneath this light wool tunic and cloak he wore.

She shook her mind back to the present.

"That is true," she finally responded. "But if you begin referring to me as 'My Fair Captain Monk' as well, I might go mad."

"He would do himself well if that was all he called you," he returned agitatedly.

"Bishop can say whatever he likes," she said, allowing herself to move an inch closer to him. "I'm not going to lose any sleep over it."

He turned to face her, and suddenly their bodies were much closer then she'd ever intended. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the calming warmth emanating from him. His breath fell lightly across her face and she met his eyes.

"And yet something _is_ troubling you," he said quietly. His gaze was too intense for her to hold, so she ducked her head shyly. She could feel him watching her still.

A breeze had picked up, and the combination of it and his close proximity made her tremble slightly.

His response was instantaneous. He unslung his cloak from his shoulders and proffered it to her.

"Here, you must be cold."

It's true, she was. Without her heavy tunic emblazoned with the sign of Ilmater, she had only the thin wraps she wore underneath. While they were light and fit her like a second skin, they did little for warmth. But devotees of the Crying God were supposed to care little for such discomforts.

"Thank you," she said politely. "I'm fine." If she was going to tell him what she had come to tell him… well, there had to be some part of her teachings she could hold onto.

He rose to his feet and held out the cloak to her, looking at her sternly. He held her gaze for a moment before his eyes softened. "Don't be stubborn," he said quietly.

She smiled at that. There was concern in his voice, but command as well. He wasn't pleading with her, and for that reason she nodded.

She reached her hand out to him and he helped her to her feet. His hand lingered in hers for a moment before he handed her the garment.

The cloak was thick, and far heavier then anything she would wear but she welcomed its warmth. He stood a good head taller then she, so the fabric encased her small frame like a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and walked a few paces from him, trying to collect her thoughts. The clean and inviting scent that enveloped her when the fabric did was not helping her. She could feel his gaze boring into her as she closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind.

She did not know what she was doing, or what she was going to do or what she should do. She'd never imagined herself in this position. Her discipline and her vows and her training were pulling her one way, and her heart was pulling her in another.

Because she was in love with him.

Her insides shrank a little as she repeated it in her mind. It was far from easy to admit it to herself, but she loved Casavir.

More then that, she _needed _him.

She found herself torn from her home and pitted against an all-consuming darkness that threatened everything she'd ever held dear. She was nineteen for gods' sakes.

But she was strong. Her training and upbringing and devotion had seen her through this far, but her new companions had helped her as well. And Casavir's constant presence and unyielding support had helped her through these past few weeks more then all the others combined, and more then she liked to admit.

It wasn't just because he was handsome. Though it certainly didn't hurt... She couldn't help but grin a little at the thought. She respected him more then anyone she'd ever known; his strength and his devotion to his beliefs, so like her own, were what first captured her heart.

He made her feel so strong, and incredibly weak and vulnerable at the same time. She felt a little shamed at allowing herself to rely so heavily on his mere presence, but she could not help herself! Every time she tried to ignore that part of her that was falling fast to these feelings, his vivid blue eyes and thick hair and the gentleness of his hands on her skin as he treated on of her many injuries flooded her mind until she was lost again.

She _ached_ to be with him, to have him hold her, so she wouldn't always have to pretend to be strong. Yes, she was the leader, the Shard-Bearer, but she didn't want to be alone as well. She wanted to be loved.

She turned and gazed at him. He had been watching her, but he quickly averted his gaze. She was reminded of a guilty schoolboy getting caught staring at a pretty girl. The action somehow made him seem much less like the dignified paladin and more like an ordinary man. It made her smile.

Gods', everything about him made him smile.

Because she loved him.

It was easier to say now, or think. At least she didn't feel sick at the though of it anymore. Ilmater forgive her, but she couldn't help herself, even if it would break her vows…

But she _had_ suffered, just as the Crying God had. Her family and her friends had been taken; even her home was lost to her. But she had been also taught of Ilmater's strength and perseverance and unending desire to help those in need, and without Casavir by her side she would be unable to have any of that.

She hoped she would be forgiven for these feelings that she was unable to control. And if not, it frightened her to think it, she did not think she cared. If she could be with him, if he could help her get through this fight… little else seemed important.

He turned and met her eyes again, and this time she did not look away. She was not sure of herself, but she had hope. His face was impassive as she approached him. She stopped her boots a few inches from his own and tilted her head up to gaze at him.

They stood for a moment in silence. Neither of them were particularly forthcoming and did not easily fall into conversation with the others.

They were unbearably close. She had to keep the sudden urge to fall into his arms in check. That must wait. She needed to try to explain herself to him, but she was afraid of what he would do. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, this would not be an easy conversation.

But by the Gods, it was hard. Standing inches from him, close enough to see the faint stubble that covered his strong jaw. His mouth had relaxed from its usually rigid line and looked soft and inviting. Gods, she loved this man… Now that she'd allowed herself to admit it, she couldn't stop repeating it to herself. The mere though of it filled her with joy.

He spoke, and it jilted her eyes, and mind, away from his mouth. He ducked his head a little closer to her.

"Tell me truthfully milady," His voice was quiet now. "What is troubling you?" All formality was gone and the atmosphere suddenly felt much more intimate.

"I could ask you the same question," she countered, her dark eyebrows raised.

He hesitated for a moment, and then a small smile flitted across his face.

"I am wrestling with guilt," he confessed. She looked puzzled at this, which caused his smile to broaden. "I've enjoyed tromping through the woods with you-and this group, these past few months more then any of the work I did for Neverwinter."

She laughed at this, marveling how suddenly, they were smiling and laughing together, neither actions came easy to the pair.

"Well," she laughed. "Considering how many evil orcs and demon's you've slain, I'm sure Tyr will forgive you."

His smile suddenly faded, and he looked away briefly. "I should hope that he would save his forgiveness for greater offences," he said quietly. He managed a small half smile that she did not believe. "Now," his voice was lower and his eyes calmly met her own. "Tell me lady," his words warmed her as he spoke. "What has kept you from your bed tonight?" His dark eyes searched her own.

"Truly?" Her resolve was failing her now; she did not think she could bear it if he rejected her. "I…I am ashamed to speak of it."

His eyes darkened. "Bishop," he growled. "That dog! I'll-"

"No, no!" She interrupted, unable to stop the small laugh that bubbled out of her. Always worries about his rival. "You misunderstand."  
He looked slightly bewildered for a moment then suddenly looked away from her. His face flushed.

"Ah... of course." He was stiff again and retreated a few steps, all friendliness gone. He was quiet for a moment, then continued in a painfully formal tone. "Your affairs with him are, of course none of my business. I apologize. Your… it is a personal matter and-"

"-Casavir!" She hissed, a blush staining her cheeks. He faced her again, his mouth reduced to a taut line and his eyes flashed in the darkness. "I'm not sleeping with Bishop!" She rushed out, hardly believing she had to say it.

His face immediately softened. If he'd been trying to hide his relief, he was doing a poor job of it; it was evident on every inch of his face.

"I'm sorry, milady." His voice was relaxed again. "I did not mean…" he broke off awkwardly.

She took a deep breath. "That is not the offense you should apologize for." She felt her hands tremble slightly beneath the cloak.

"I don't understand." he said quietly, moving closer to her.

His mouth was suddenly so close she was having trouble not stretching up and claiming it.

"You, Casavir," her voice was barley above a whisper. "_You_ are the man who has been robbing me of my sleep these nights."

He looked stunned, even saddened by her words. "How," he began. "What have…" he looked away again. " Do you wish me to leave your service?"

"No, no," she laughed a little. "You don't understand." How could he not realize? She was sure her want for him was written all over her face.

"You make light of me," he whispered, hurt etched in his voice.

"No," her hand trembled as she reached up and touched his face lightly. "Never."

He looked down at her. She could not read the expression that flitted across her face. He ducked his head close to her again, his hair brushing her forehead. She couldn't breathe, he was too close.

"Lady," his voice was uneven as his breath fell across her face. "What have I done?"

She hesitated for a long moment. She had no gift with words, and she did not know how to tell him everything she wanted to. How his mere presence filled her with such strength. How much she admired his will and unyielding good heart. How she's wrestled with herself for weeks over this. How much she wanted him to hold her. How much she loved him.

How could she explain it all?

She gazed into his eyes, her thumb absently stroking his face. A question was written in his eyes, but she did not know how to answer. Her hand stretched to cover his cheek, her fingertips warming at the contact.

He closed his eyes at this, a small smile growing on his mouth. He covered her hand with his own, leaning his cheek against her palm.

At this movement, she threw all caution, and her carefully laid plan into the wind. Feeling reckless, but not caring, she reached up and covered his unyielding mouth with her own. Her insides buzzed and hummed at the contact and she lost herself to him. She warmed even more as he recovered from his initial surprise and his mouth became compliant and responded to her with equal fervor. Her body burned as he pulled her closer to him. Her insides turned to liquid when she felt his heavy breathing against her neck. He held her tightly to him and she gasped as his mouth flew from her lips to her jaw to her temple, each kissed seared against her skin.

The passion she never knew he had washed over her in waves. _This_ was Casavir, she realized as she smiled against his mouth. _This_ was the man, not the paladin of Tyr. The man she'd only seen burning behind his eyes during his spats with Bishop and when the demons taunted him at Haven.

His body was warm and strong against her own. She clutched at the solid muscles on his back, trying not throw herself completely against him. Casavir's hands flew beneath the cloak to her hips and roughly pulled her to him. She gasped involuntarily at the contact and felt herself arch against him, his name falling from her mouth.

Then, she did not know how it happened, he was gone.

Her eyes flew open as he pulled himself away. He would not look at her. For a moment she allowed herself to believe that he was catching his breath and reached for him, but he brushed her hand away.

"No," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse, and she could see his hands shake. "No, milady… I."

_Milady_?

The word stung her like a slap.

"Casavir?" His name fell as a breath from her lips. She was desperate to be near him again. To have him look at her. He stepped farther away. Her mind was still in a daze.

He had kissed her hard and pulled her close to him… why wouldn't he look at her?

She stepped towards him, laying a hand on his back.

"I… milady I cannot…" He shrank away from her touch, his voice as breathless as her own.

She dropped her hand, her face coloring with shame.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I misunderstood." Her insides twisted miserably. "I thought you cared for me." She finished in a whisper

He sighed, frustration colored his voice. "It is not a question of…" He finally turned to face her, for a moment he was lost for words. His voice trembled when he spoke again. "I swore to defend you. To… protect you."

"You have," she said softly. She placed a tentative hand over his own. "You've done so much… I wouldn't have made it this far without you."

"Milady," he was quiet, the hand under hers clenched into a fist. She could tell he was struggling for control. She chanced a step closer to him. For a fleeting moment his hand relaxed under hers and she felt his breath on her neck and his cheek against her hair.

But he pulled away again. "This is wrong. I have vows… I have sworn-"

"-To what?" she asked earnestly. She knew paladins didn't take vows of celibacy. What was stopping him? "Casavir, you wouldn't be breaking any-"

"-Yes. I would." His tone was dark. "I swore to _protect_ you!"

"You wouldn't-"

"-By the gods Lynette!" His voice suddenly thundered over her. She shrank as her name flew from his mouth in a fury. "_Why_? Why have you sought me out?!"  
" I…Cas-" She shrank away, lost for words.

"I cannot… I could _not_ protect you from this!" he roared. "I cannot protect you from _myself_."

His voice washed over her like a tidal wave in a storm. He towered over her, and she was suddenly struck by how small she was in comparison to him. She met his eyes for a fleeting moment, and she thought she saw them soften a little. He reached for her, beginning to speak; but she could not take anymore.

Without a word, she turned and fled into the night. She did not turn when she heard him calling after her.


End file.
